Pretty Things
by irmaida
Summary: "He never really thought the world was pretty until he met her—bright Lily who looked at the world with fresh eyes. She was always saying the world was pretty—exactly that word. When Lily says it, he believes it." One-sided Severus/Lily, canon. For Jess.


**Pretty Things**

"He never really thought the world was pretty until he met her—bright Lily who looked at the world with fresh eyes. She was always saying the world was pretty—exactly that word. When Lily says it, he believes it." One-sided Severus/Lily, canon. For Jess.

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In the beginning, it was just him and Lily.

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In the beginning, he had seen the redheaded girl at the community park as she had jumped off the swing and played with the flowers, and he had immediately known that she was special. Like him. Well, probably more special than him; he was just Severus Snape after all. He eavesdrops on conversations between her and her sister until he learns her name: Lily Evans. And then he plans and plans for the perfect moment for him to introduce himself.

He's drawn to her, and they become best friends after a somewhat rocky start. But it more or less all came so naturally, like destiny. A fact, like trees being green and the sky being blue. Severus Snape and Lily Evans. Best friends. He smiles at her under the willow tree as Lily tells him a story.

\

They go to Hogwarts together. He's nervous at the moment. No one's ever liked him except for Lily. He has hopes that maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts will become a home. Home is so unwelcoming. So cold and lonely and scary.

"I can't believe I'm finally going here. I still can't believe this is all real. This world is so pretty, Sev. I still can't believe it."

Severus says nothing but drinks in the sound of her voice. He never really thought the world was pretty until he met her—bright Lily who looked at the world with fresh eyes. She was always saying the world was pretty—exactly that word. When Lily says it, he believes it.

"The world _is _pretty," he agrees. Maybe Hogwarts will become like the home he never really had. He leads Lily to the train, and then all of a sudden, Lily's unexceptional Muggle sister, Petunia or something, appears and drags Lily away.

"I'm sorry, but I need to have a word with my sister," the girl practically spits. Snape stands, and when Lily does not come back after a few minutes and the train starts hooting, he has to run on. Had Lily abandoned him? No, Lily wouldn't do that, he desperately hopes. Lily cannot already be slipping away from him. He rushes pass compartments, looking for her, expecting the worst. It would be natural for Lily to have already found a new friend...

But Lily is sitting by herself on one side of the compartment, and crying. And automatically he knows that her sister is behind this and almost sighs out loud in relief. Lily is still with him, his, somehow. He sits next to her. Tries to make her smile. She finally does, of course. It's a little half smile, but still a smile. He's always been able to do that, and he feels proud. He mentions Slytherin -

And then James Potter, who up until that moment had been quietly sitting in his side of the compartment, speaks out of nowhere and starts ruining everything. He isn't even at Hogwarts yet and already he feels as if he doesn't quite belong. Lily gives him a smile - the same half smile, the one he's pretty sure that Lily gives to no one else, and he nervously smiles back. He hopes that they will be put into the same house, and Potter can be in his precious Gryffindor by himself.

Instead, he's put into Slytherin, and Lily is put into Gryffindor, along with the Potter boy. And that's pretty much of the end of the beginning when it was just him, and Lily.

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He and Lily still stay friends. Lily is too kind and dedicated and loyal to abandon him, even when she's invited to go on girl outings with her little Gryffindor friends, even when it's obvious to everybody else that pretty, popular people like Lily don't associate with people like _Severus Snape_. Instead, if anything, it's him that leaves Lily, for his new Slytherin friends. They're offering knowledge and a secure social group and some respect. He wants so desperately to fit in, something that is impossible since James Potter hates him.

"Ignore him, Severus," Lily says. "He's a prat. You shouldn't let him influence you at all. Stand up to him!"

Easier said than done. He shrugs off Lily's advice because that was something he could never do—stand up for himself. For Lily standing up was just a given, a fact of life. For Severus it was something he avoided if possible. That is, he supposes, why he got put into Slytherin and Lily got put into Gryffindor. He wonders if Lily can feel the growing rift too.

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There comes one day in Fourth Year when he and Lily go to Hogsmeade together. Just the two of them—none of Lily's new friends in Gryffindor, none of Severus's new ones in Slytherin. Days like this are getting rarer and rare, Severus realizes as time passes. So he tries to enjoy it as much as he can.

They laugh. They window-shop. They forget all the differences and arguments they are getting into. They forget that they're social classes and Houses and everything apart. It's like the beginning, all over again. In one of the shops, Lily buys him an enchanted flower.

"The shopkeeper says it will live forever, so long as you take care of it with water and love and this seed. It's pretty, isn't it?"

He nods along and promises that he'll keep it forever, and take care of it for his entire life. Lily laughs, her laugh like music, and he can't help but to buy her a flower too—not one that will live forever, but a lovely multicolored rose.

"This world," Lily says, "it's just pretty, isn't it?"

\

At the beginning of Fifth Year, Lily finds a little gift waiting for her in the beginning of their Double Charms class—a bouquet of red roses.

Lily lifts the flowers and sniffs them, and her eyes brighten and her entire face goes red.

"I suppose Potter sent those ugly things to you?" Severus sneers, incredibly jealous. He'd always known that Lily had a good share of admirers, including James, but to see it so obvious like this… he wishes that _he _had thought of the idea.

"What are you talking about, Sev?" Lily asks, too enamored to really be upset. "They're too pretty for Potter to have sent them. He's too immature to think of pretty things like this."

The roses don't appear again, and they never do figure out who sent them. But Severus always wonders and envies in the back of his mind. And so Fifth Year is off to a rocky start. And things really only get worse from there—he starts getting more involved with the Slytherin gang, and Lily starts to spend more time with other girls in Gryffindor, and it seems like whenever they're together, all Severus can do is complain about James, something even Lily is starting to get annoyed about.

But other than the Lily issue, and of course the ever-present issue with James, Fifth Year is starting to look up in terms of other friends. Avery and Mulciber, who are pretty much the head of the Slytherin gang, are starting to accept him. He's never really been a part of anything—it's exciting, even if Lily doesn't think it's quite right. A nagging little voice always tells him it's not right either, not right to practice Dark Arts and perform them on classmates, but it's not like he can just tell Avery and Mulciber things like that. No, so he goes along with them. It's just a bit of fun, anyway.

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Severus looks out the window of the astronomy tower and blinks. It's sunny.

It has been raining for the entire past week, and everyone is restless. It doesn't help that OWLs were the same week. Even he, who usually is completely okay with staying indoors, is starting to feel the urge to stretch his legs outside and breathe in the sunny air. So he goes outside after classes, taking his homework and maybe read a book.

Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who was feeling restless and took the advantage of the sunny day. It seems as if the entire school is outside along with—oh no, James Potter and his stupid little group of friends.

And naturally, they just _have _to decide to pick on him.

\

He tries to forget the memory.

Just wipe it out of his mind.

Or maybe fix the situation.

Or maybe this is a nightmare, and he'll wake up from it any moment now.

It's not real. It can't possibly be. And even if it's real, it's not his fault. Surely Lily understands that—it's James's fault, it's Sirius's fault, maybe it's Avery's fault for familiarizing him with that word with him so much.

But deep down, he knows that not only is it real, it is _entirely _his fault.

He has just called Lily Evans a Mudblood.

In front of practically the entire school.

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"I can't pretend anymore," says Lily. "You've chosen your way. I've chosen mine."

He tries to protest—to explain. He didn't mean it, no, it's _not his fault_, it's not. He tries to make her see that it will never happen again. He wants to make promises for him to break off with his friends—they're not even really his friends, and just make everything right. He will _make _her understand. But Lily brushes off his feeble protests with one final statement.

"You call every one of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

He wants to tell her that he only does that to fit in with his friends. And that she is infinitely different—she is Lily and she is pretty and perfect. But he says none of that. Lily leaves him speechless and then goes back into the portrait hole.

He should run after her. He should yell. He should say something. He should just grab her and hold her and _make _her understand, or just kiss her senseless, like he's wanted to for so many years. Instead, he sits there, dumbfounded.

Because Severus Snape is a coward, and he could never do any of that.

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He can't sleep that night. Instead he cries, something he hasn't done since he was five and his father struck him. He's just lost Lily. And it is entirely his fault.

He somehow falls into a fitful sleep, and when he wakes up the next morning, his head is pounding, and he feels like vomiting. He checks his watch. 10 a.m. Ten! Usually, even on weekends, he manages to wake up before eight. Thank goodness it's a Sunday.

Everyone else in his room is already out, and he vaguely remembers that there was a Hogsmeade trip today. Well, it's too late now. He must have missed breakfast, but he's not hungry. He remembers last night and wonders how life will ever go on. He's lost his best friend.

But he still has the Slytherins. So long as he learns their beliefs, they'll accept him. They were easy, especially since his emotions weren't really involved. He wonders what Lily would say, but then immediately pushes her out of his mind. Forget Lily. Severus needs this group of friends—they've taught him so much, and no one else will accept him anyway.

He gets out of bed and stumbles towards his suitcase, looking for of those Muggle headache pills that his mother used to use. He'd thought he'd brought some. He does not find the pills, but instead finds that rose from the day at Hogwarts so long ago—the pretty rose that was supposed to live forever. It is dead now, completely dried up and crumpled and brown. It is dead, and so ugly that he thrusts it away in shame.

Ugly, like him, he thinks.

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Fifth Year passes. The summer is even worse than it usually is, as Lily will no longer spend time with him. But it's too late to reconcile with her.

Sixth Year comes and goes uneventfully. And Seventh Year begins.

Life, naturally, goes on. He gets more involved in Dark Magic and the Dark Lord. It fascinates him. Not only is it new and powerful, it is challenging. He pores over books and learns it much more quickly than those around him, who are really more interested in using Dark Magic to bully the younger students. They are foolish, he thinks, although he would _never _say so. Even if he is somewhat accepted and respected, he's still Severus with the greasy hair and the small physique.

He observes Lily from afar, with shame, with guilt, with longing. He watches as she grows closer to James Potter. And the more he watches, the more he regrets his decision. But it is much too late now. Lily is rumored to be dating James, and, well, he's in too deep with his choices to turn back now.

He only wishes he could apologize.

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He makes plans to go to Hogsmeade with Crabbe the next week, but at the last minute, Crabbe gets detention, and Severus ends up going to Hogsmeade by himself.

Hogsmeade isn't nearly as fun when no one else is around to share it with you. He wanders the shops and suddenly remembers the days he would spend with Lily. He passes by the flower shop where Lily gave him that so-called eternal rose. It seems like an eternity ago. He wonders if Lily still has the multicolored rose he gave her. Probably not. Flowers don't live forever, and Lily hates him anyway. He lingers around the shop, although he doesn't want to, and something catches his eye.

It's the flower. The multicolored rose—the exact same time. This has to be a sign, he decides. And suddenly he remembers Lily taking the flower and telling him what a pretty world it was. And maybe, maybe he can apologize in this small way. He'll just leave it on her desk, or mail it, or something. She'll know it was him, but nobody else ever will.

He enters the shop, the door opening silently, and then freezes because he hears her voice—Lily's. His heart hammers faster. This has to be a sign, it just _has _to, it must be destiny, or—

"They're really pretty, I guess."

His blood goes cold. That's Potter's voice. Potter as in James Potter. Lily is with James Potter in _their _flower shop. He can see them now, behind a rack of snapping plants, but they don't see him. He doesn't mean to spy or eavesdrop, but he can't help himself.

Lily's pretty green eyes are bright, and her cheeks are red, and she is holding hands with Potter. He feels sick to his stomach.

"Really, James? I didn't know you liked things like flowers," Lily's voice is teasing, but when James replies, he sounds dead serious.

"Well, I'm starting to. I-I tried telling you in Fifth Year, with those red roses…" And then James reaches over and plucks a rose—_his _multicolored rose—and presents it to Lily, who blushes an even brighter red and smiles at James. Severus doesn't have to look to know that it's that half smile.

"That was you?" she breathes. They're leaning even closer now. "It's a pretty world, isn't it?"

Severus turns away, eyes wet. He's seen enough. He sits there, hugging his knees, remembering Lily's words. _It's a pretty world_. What a lie. What a big, fat lie.

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Pretty things were only made for pretty people.


End file.
